Say Something
by 221BluePoliceBox
Summary: There is something wrong with Sherlock, seriously wrong. John wants to help but there's nothing he can do...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 Trepidation**

**Hi guys i'm back! I just can't leave Sherlock alone! I'm back with another multi chaptered story and yes it's another sickfic (sorry Sherlock!) I'm really excited about this one. As always please review it means so much to me and I love to hear your thoughts! On a side note, I went to a charity shop after work today and bought loads of novelization Doctor Who books! I am so excited to read them! Got a full boxset of 10th Doctor stories for six pounds! I also bought some individual, 11th Doctor and Amy stories. Obsessed, me, never! At least my money went to a good cause! Anyway on with the story!**

He wanted to ask Sherlock again but his reaction to the last time, or the thirty forth time in the last four days he'd asked made him resist.

"John!" Lestrade called causing him to pause in his pursuit of Sherlock who had strode out of the office in what he assumed was a break in the case they were currently working on. Sherlock had left the room before he or Greg had the chance to ask him where he was going.

"Yeah mate I know, but you know better than me what he's like," John said hoping to cut him off before he began yet another rant about Sherlock actions, before conceding that yes he knew what he was like and yes he needed his help; more so than he cared to admit. This predictable speech was usually rounded off with a warning not to tell Sherlock what he'd said. The last thing he needed was an excuse to be a bigger arsehole than he already was.

"No, that's not what I meant," Greg said increasing his speed to catch up with John.

"Then what?" John asked confused.

"Not here, lets talk in my office," he said casting his eyes to the officers currently lingering in the hallway attempting to look busy and failing miserably.

"Okay," John said carefully as he followed him back to the office.

"Back to work gentleman," Greg said causing the officers to jump and scuttle immediately before he shut the door behind him and sat opposite John.

"So, what's this about" he asked.

"Sherlock."

"Sherlock? What about him? Wait, no I don't want to hear it. I'm his friend not his bloody carer. If you've got a problem with Sherlock tell him yourself," he snapped.

"I can't," he said carefully.

"What do you mean you can't? You can't be that scared of him surely? You're a detective inspector for God sake!" he said exasperated.

"I don't have a problem with Sherlock – well not beyond the problems I normally have with him," he said stammering and tripping over his words.

"What are you talking about Greg? You complain about Sherlock being cryptic. You're no bloody better at the moment, what is it?" he asked impatiently.

Greg sighed and eventually said it. "I'm worried about him," he said at last.

"Worried about him, why?" he asked in trepidation.

"You are too," Greg said the concern he felt increasing. Yes Sherlock was a pain in the arse at times but he cared about him, he couldn't help it even if he did question why at times.

"No i'm not," John said unconvincingly. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Greg.

"You are I can tell. You think it too, that there's something not quite right?" Greg asked tentatively.

"You mean beyond the obvious?" he asked trying to make light of the situation, afterall they were just being stupid, right.

"John," Greg said quietly.

"Sorry, look i'm sure he's fine. It's most likely the crazy insistence he has on hardly eating or sleeping catching up with him. He is human afterall, no matter how much he likes to think or even believes otherwise," John attempted to rationalise.

"It's more than that John, we both know it. We've both seen him with no sleep or food and we know it affects him but not like this. I saw how he was in withdrawal from the drugs and even that wasn't like this. This is something else, we both know it," he said sighing.

"Yeah I know," John said wearily. His stomach clenching slightly as Greg's concerned echoed his own making it all the more real that something was wrong with Sherlock.

"What do we do?" Greg asked.

"Nothing, what can we do? We can't say anything to him. I guess all we can do is keep an eye on him and hope he's so wrapped up in what he's doing that he doesn't notice," John said trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He kept trying to tell himself it was nothing, even if Greg had also noticed something was wrong it didn't mean anything. He sighed, he was a doctor, he knew when something was wrong, he just didn't know what the something was.

"Come on we gotta go," Greg said glancing at his phone scanning a text.

"Where?" John asked dumbly.

"Where do you think John, where do we always go?" Greg asked grabbing his coat and headed for the door with John at his heels.

"Where?" John asked again but his tone indicating he wanted a precise address. He knew where he was going, where he always went nowadays, after Sherlock. He pulled his phone out and text Mary telling her he'd be home late. Just as he'd finished sending the message the phone buzzed in his hands. "Yeah alright we're coming," he said rolling his eyes slightly.

**Trust me all will be revealed in the next chapter which will be up this week!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Thank you so much for the reviews and please keep them coming I really like to know what you think of this!**

**Disclaimer**

**Sadly I don't own Sherlock and considering what I do to him in my stories he's probably very glad!**

Sherlock had to get out of the office, he needed fresh air. He also needed to get away from the persistent droning of Lestrade but mostly he needed fresh air. He stood just round the corner from the police station forcing himself to take slow deep breaths to force the air into his lungs. He leant against the wall for support as another violent coughing fit took over him. He grasped his chest which felt like fire was racing through it. Moisture swelled up in his eyes as it was proving increasingly difficult to get any air into his lungs at all.

When the coughing finally subdued he walked to a nearby pharmacy and bought the biggest cough bottle he could see behind the counter. When he got outside he opened the bottle and drank down a good half it. He didn't have time for one spoonful or whatever the dose was. He needed this coughing and burning in his chest to stop, he had work to do. He winced at the bitter taste of the mixture before putting the lid back on and putting the bottle in his coat pocket.

The cough had been getting worse lately and so was the pain in his chest. He knew it shouldn't come as a big shock to him. He was an ex smoker, (relatively speaking) so it was no surprise that he had caught a chest infection or something similar causing the cough and pain in his chest. He'd relented and bought a cough bottle because he had work to do and he couldn't afford to be slowed down.

He hailed a taxi to take him to Peckham, there was someone there he needed to talk to, someone who know a lot more than they were making out. When the taxi pulled away Sherlock pulled out his phone to call John. The game was on, now all he needed was this pain to ease and for each breath not to feel like liquid fire. The cough and pain in his chest had been getting worse. There was no point going to a doctor they would just warn him to stay off the cigarettes and improve his diet. Why make an appointment for that when he had a blogger who threw all that in for free. Maybe he could convince John to write him a prescription for antibiotics. He knew John would moan at him to go to a doctor but he was sure he could convince him as they both knew taking the prescription from John was the closest thing he would get to going to a doctor.

He suppressed a sigh as the burning in his chest increased with each breath. The pain hadn't been that bad to begin with. At first he'd thought it was the lasting effect of the gunshot wound he'd suffered at the hands of John's wife. The pain had been getting worse and was now coupled with an irritating and painful cough which was very inconvenient to him working. He was sure he could get John to fill out the prescription for him. He'd seen how John had been looking at him the last few days so he'd be glad he was at last doing something about it. A few days taking the antibiotics and he'd be fine he reminded him self as he pointlessly tried suppressing another coughing fit. This really was getting tedious now.

00000

"Jesus Sherlock, you really need to go to a doctor mate," John said frowning in concern as Sherlock coughed violently again.

"I'm fine," Sherlock gasped trying to force air into his lungs with seriously increasing difficulty. "Just give me another prescription for the antibiotics at a stronger dose, you can't seriously have expected them to work with the pathetic dose you gave me," he got out inbetween violent coughs and gasping for breath.

"Sherlock would you just shut up for one second!" John said moving towards him. Placing a hand on his back frowning at how prominent his spine felt. "Deep breaths, Sherlock," he said calmly.

"Leave me alone," he choked out. Why did John insist on making a drama out of everything? He was fine...he just needed more of the antibiotics that's all it was, right?

"Sherlock, listen to me deep breaths, copy me," John said in a forced calm voice as he tried to get Sherlock to imitate his breathing. "That's it good, keep calm it will make this easier, that's it," John said soothingly as he saw Sherlock for once was trying to do as he said.

Sherlock sighed and gave one last deep cough causing him to gasp and cover his mouth. When he moved his hand away he saw his fingers were tinged with blood.

"Shit," John muttered reaching quickly for his mobile.

"Don't," Sherlock said quickly brushing the blood off his fingers on his trousers without looking at it.

"Sherlock, you just coughed up blood you need a hospital!" John pleaded with him.

"I'm not getting in an ambulance," he said firmly.

"Then what Sherlock? What are you going to do because we need to do something Sherlock you can't ignore this," John said almost desperately.

"I'm not ignoring it," Sherlock said at last forcing himself to take slow deep breaths.

"Then what are you going to do?" John asked carefully.

"I'm going to see a doctor. Don't look so surprised even I know I need to see a doctor," Sherlock said of John's look of surprise when he said he was going to see a doctor.

00000

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" John asked again.

"Yes i'm sure, i'm perfectly capable of going myself," Sherlock said cutting the call off and getting in a taxi to the doctors surgery hoping that what ever this was would be sorted quickly.

"Sherlock Holmes?" the receptionist called gesturing for him to go into the doctor's office. He'd reminded John on several occasions he wasn't a stupid man. The coughing and pains in his chest had been getting worse and over the last few days he'd coughed up larger amounts of blood. He knew even before seeing the doctor this was not going to be something a course of antibiotics could fix. What he didn't know yet was just how bad it was going to be.

**I promise all will be revealed in the next chapter. Sadly it wont be up until around a week on Sunday because i'm going on holiday to London. I promise to update soon as I get back!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I am sorry for the delay in updating but I was on holiday in London! I had an amazing time,my hotel was just down the road from the set of Sherlock so you can imagine my happiness! I went Sherlock and Doctor Who crazy when I was away but don't regret a thing I bought! I think my girl who waited Doctor Who top has to be the best thing I bought! Actually I also bought a lot of Harry Potter stuff, another fandom I love and want to write for again soon. I miss writing about the twins! Anyway enough of my rambling! As always thank you so much for the reviews and please keep them coming. It really helps me to know what you think and that you are reading this!**

**Disclaimer**

**I don't own Sherlock but I have had lunch and breakfast in Speedys and visited his house (the Sherlock museum) so that is close enough...for now!**

"Please take a seat," the doctor said indicating for Sherlock to sit down. "So what can I do for you?" he asked sitting opposite him.

Sherlock forced himself not to snap at the doctor's fake tone of concern. He knew some doctors did genuinely care about each of their patients with their stomach aches, earaches or whatever else ailed them but the cheery concern what the last thing he was in the mood for at the moment. He sighed, trying not to wince at the sharp pain in his chest from doing so and told the doctor his symptoms. As he described them all he tried not to focus on how worrying it seemed. He wasn't stupid, he'd known his symptoms indicated something serious but actually voicing the symptoms and seeing the doctor's reaction made it all the more concerning.

"When did the symptoms begin?" the doctor eventually asked breaking the awkward silence that followed Sherlock's bleak narrative.

"Six weeks roughly and they have increased in severity over the last few weeks, hence my appointment," he said dryly.

The doctor nodded curtly and took Sherlock's height and weight. He wasted no time in informing Sherlock that he was underweight earning him an eye roll in response before taking his blood pressure.

"Could you lift your shirt up please, I need to listen to your chest," the doctor said slipping on his stethoscope. Sherlock rolled his eyes again and unbuttoned his shirt enough to give the doctor access to his chest.

The doctor glanced at the scar on his chest. "You due any follow up appointments with this?" he asked reaching for his notes again.

"I was signed off and this has nothing to do with that so can we get on with what you are paid for, finding out what it is to do with," he interrupted curtly.

"Breathe in for me, and out," the doctor said listening to his chest frowning a little. "And again," he said after a moment.

"I want to send you for some further tests," the doctor said as Sherlock buttoned his shirt after completing a spirometry test, he knew it hadn't gone well.

"Why?" Sherlock asked carefully.

"I just think you need some further tests to ensure the best treatment," the doctor said quietly.

"Isn't there something you can give me in the meantime? It could be weeks, months, considering the state of the NHS!" Sherlock demanded impatiently.

"I want you to go first thing tomorrow morning. Give them this letter at the reception and they will tell you where to go," the doctor said printing a letter and signing it telling him to be at the hospital at nine O'clock the next morning.

"Seems coming to you was a complete waste of time," Sherlock said dryly as he stood.

"No Mr Holmes, I am very glad you have come to me when you did," the doctor said quietly as Sherlock left his office. It was times like this that he truly hated his job.

00000

"John?" Mary snapped tapping her husband on the shoulder as he again failed to answer her.

"Sorry what?" he asked shaking his head before turning to face her.

"I knew you weren't listening to a thing I was saying," she complained.

"I know sorry I was -"

"Worrying about Sherlock," she said cutting him off with a sharp tone.

"Don't be like that Mary, you don't understand, it...it's serious, I think..." he said worriedly.

"Yeah it always is," she said darkly.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

"Nothing sorry, just you've been distracted lately, you know really distracted," she said moving a little closer to her husband.

"I know i'm sorry but I, look I have to call him alright then i'm yours," he said standing.

"Of course you do," Mary muttered bitterly to John's retreating form.

"Hey Sherlock, how did it go?" he asked when Sherlock finally answered his phone. He forced himself not to overact to the slightly laboured sound to his breathing, there could any number of reasons behind it, it might not even be there at all.

"Fine," Sherlock said clearing offering no follow up to his response.

"Right, that's good. What did they say was wrong?" he prompted.

"Nothing John, they didn't say it's fine stop worrying," he snapped.

"What do you mean they didn't say? Sherlock, what happened, what did they say?" he asked worry lacing his every word.

"I need to have some follow up tests at the hospital. Don't John, don't start it's fine," he said curtly as he hung up the phone before John could offer to come with him as he knew he would.

As he snapped his phone shut an old conversation between him and John floated back to him.

"_Alone is what I have. Alone protects me."_

"_No. Friends protect people."_

At that moment Sherlock had never felt more alone in his life. He couldn't help but appreciate the irony behind his loneliness was that he knew John cared about him but he had no idea how to let him be a friend.

00000

"You okay sir would you like a moment?" the doctor asked gently as she sealed the various vials containing a range of his bodily fluids including, blood and phlegm and various others.

"No i'm fine," he said hoarsely as he stood slowly. He was still a little woozy from the aesthetic they had given him for the bronchoscopy he'd underwent after the CT scan, an experience he did not want to repeat!

"Your results should be back in a few days. We will phone you with the results and we will see where we go from there depending on the what they say."

"Fine," Sherlock said dully as he left the room. He refused to acknowledge the pain in his chest as he walked down the street just outside the hospital.

It was as promised a few days later the hospital phoned back. "Mr Holmes, if you could come in tomorrow morning, we have your test results," the receptionist said.

"Can't you just tell me them over the phone?" Sherlock demanded.

"No, the doctor has requested you come in to discuss the results."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four.**

**Thank you so much for the reviews they mean so much to me! I am so sorry for this slow update but I have been ill this week. I suppose it's punishment for all the sickfics I write! Next chapter wont take so long I promise!**

**Disclaimer**

**I don't own Sherlock and wit what I do to him I bet he's glad!**

Cancer...Cancer...he had cancer...lung cancer to be specific.

He didn't know why it was such a shock to him of all people. He knew smoking as much as he did meant he was at a higher risk of developing cancer. It was part of the reason he'd been trying to quit . He said it was because he couldn't afford a smoking habit in London, that was true he also was concerned about the risks to his health especially with his past addictions. He had been doing well, he'd cut down significantly but apparently not well enough.

"Mr Holmes?" the consultant prompted forcing his mind back into the room.

"What?" he snapped.

"Do you understand what I have just told you and the implications this will have on you?" he asked gently.

"Yes," he said dully. He wasn't stupid.

"Do you have any questions? I know this is a lot to take in. These are the numbers for some support lines and information about support groups you can join and you can contact me anytime," he said placing the information on the table infront of Sherlock who made no move to take it. He sighed inwardly he'd been doing this job a long time but delivering news like this was never easy. The day it became any easier was the day he would know he'd been doing the job too long.

"Not much you can say," he said icily.

"I know this must be a shock."

"It shouldn't be given my symptoms and i'm a smoker who is a recovered drug addict, relativity speaking so not really that shocking is it, doctor," he said almost scathingly.

"This is a shock to anyone regardless of symptoms or circumstances."

"Save me your concern, you are a consultant you spent all day surrounded by death," he said. He knew the same could be said of himself yet somehow it was different when the death was his own. In some ways he was surprised that he cared. He was openly flippant about life and often voiced his frustrations about the world yet somehow he knew he wasn't quite ready to leave it yet. He wasn't used to thinking like this it unsettled him. He had to shut this down, this was simply further evidence of what emotions did they blurred the facts and facts were what mattered.

Humans were born and they died it was a fact of life that everybody knew so why attach such pointless emotion to it.

"It is not false concern Mr Holmes, far from it. Do you have people to support you through this? No one should face this alone. We will be with you every step of the way but it's the support of your friends and family you need. Let me give you one piece of advice Mr Holmes, let them in, let them help," he urged.

"Alright," he said sensing it was the only way to end this conversation. The image of Mycroft at his sick bed was laughable. His parents...John...no he didn't need the fussing it wouldn't help...he just had to deal with this.

"We will arrange a date for you to start chemotherapy, it should be sometime within the next few weeks, most likely not even as long as that," the doctor said.

"Fine," Sherlock said.

"Until then, this is a prescription to try and help with the pain, this can be adjusted according to how you respond to it and the treatment," he said.

Sherlock nodded pulling his coat on and leaving the office. There had been a lot of information thrown at him regarding treatment plans and managing his symptoms. He had stored the information in his mind palace so he could try and process it later.

When he got back to Baker Street it took a few moments for him to notice John was standing outside waiting for him as he'd been trying to subtly catch his breath.

"Why didn't you go inside? Mrs Hudson would have let you in?" Sherlock asked trying to maintain even breaths as he spoke.

"I'm not here to see Mrs Hudson, i'm here to see you," John replied. Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly before letting them both into the building. He stood in the landing outside his flat grasping the wall for support as violent coughs invaded hi body. He was barely aware of John's arm steadying him and helping him inside.

"I'm fine, stop it," Sherlock protested breathlessly.

"Don't need to be a doctor to know that's not true," John retorted pushing him into his chair before moving into the kitchen under the pretence of making tea. He was going to make tea but it wasn't his main reason for retreating to the kitchen. He had a feeling Sherlock needed a moment alone. He forced himself not to watch him from the kitchen but the sounds of Sherlock's harsh breathing punctuated through by violent painful sounding coughs that made John wince. He sighed forcing himself to make the tea.

"Here," John said handing Sherlock a cup of tea before forcing himself to take a sip of his own.

Sherlock said nothing but took a sip from his cup before another coughing fit took over him causing him to spurt his tea over the table. He would have dropped his cup if John hadn't instantly got to his side taking the cup from him. Sherlock grasped his chest a soft groan forcing itself from his lips which John knew was equal to a scream of agony from anyone else. "It's okay Sherlock, breath, nice and slowly, come on," John coaxed.

Sherlock could hear John's instructions but wanted to snap at him that he was trying but it hurt. He needed to breathe...

"I know you said breathing is boring but this is taking it a bit far come on Sherlock," John said forcing the concern out of his voice. If Sherlock had been in better condition he would have noticed that John had not only remembered an off hand comment he had made years ago but quoted it back to him.

"I know it hurts but come on breathe," John said firmly as he undid the top few buttons of Sherlock's fitted shirt. Eventually the pain eased slightly and Sherlock started to breathe normally again.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Tell me Sherlock," John said quietly.

Sherlock sighed and told him.

**Try not to hate me too much! Oh and the full conversation between Sherlock and John will be revealed. You didn't really think i'd not write that did you? Thanks again for reading, please leave a review on your way out, thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Two updates in less than I week I have to say I am very impressed with myself! I am aware I have tinkered with canon slightly for the purposes of this story in that in this story Mary is not pregnant. As always thank you so much for the reviews they really mean a lot to me! As always please leave me a review I love to hear what you think. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer**

**Sadly I still don't own a thing!**

"_Tell me."_

Two words that from the moment they had left his lips he wished he'd never said. He wanted to yell at him to stop this. He couldn't stand to hear anymore. He was an army doctor he'd seen and delivered some truly awful news. It was never easy but it was never anything like that. He wanted him to stop saying these awful things but he knew there was no stopping until it was over and suddenly the air in the room seemed far too thin.

The conversation blasted through the walls of his mind until he began to feel like they were shattering and closing in. He didn't know what to do but there was one thing he knew for certain that he did have to do. He had known for a while he had to do and this was the final push he needed.

"_Tell me."_

"_Alright," Sherlock said for once not knowing how to word this._

"_Sherlock?" John prompted nervously._

"_Sorry, I...I've, I've got lung cancer," he said at last not able to bring himself to look at John._

_John had been unsettled watching Sherlock stumbling for words, that coupled with the symptoms he'd been displaying he knew it wasn't good but he wasn't expecting this..._

"_Oh my God...I Sherlock," John sputtered not quite able to form full sentences. He was a doctor he knew the statistics and the brutal form this cancer could and would take._

"_Don't John," Sherlock said at last._

"_Don't what?"_

"_Do this, what it is you're doing it doesn't help," he said curtly._

"_Then what does Sherlock? Tell me what will help. What are the doctors saying Sherlock? What have they said to you? How advanced is it? Have they talked treatment plans with you? Have they spoke_ _to you about medications they can offer you to alleviate your symptoms?" John asked his questions all coming out in a sudden rush. He tripped and stumbled over his words in their hurry to leave his mouth. _

"_I don't know it was, I've stored it, it's all a bit much to take in even for me. I'll process it all later," he answered his voice sounding tired and raspy._

"_Does Mycroft or your parents know?"_

"_No."_

"_Are you going to-" he began before Sherlock cut him off._

"_Yes, they will find out eventually, Mycroft always does, much though it pains me to admit and of course he'll decide to do the brotherly thing for once in his life and inform our parents," he said between coughs which caused John to lean forward in his seat in concern as Sherlock batted him away._

"_Sorry," John said knowing instantly the smothering worry he was forcing upon him was the last thing Sherlock needed or wanted. It pained him as his best friend to admit, he didn't quite know what he needed. If he ever needed his friends powers of deduction it was now to help him penetrate that brilliant mind of his and see how to help him. "They do need to know Sherlock, they can help you," he said at last rolling his eyes slightly at Sherlock's snort of derision._

"_This changes things John," Sherlock said at last the pain these words cost him was penetrable. It took everything John had not to reach over and hug him._

"_I know, but i'm here Sherlock. No matter what you try and say i'm here," John said his throat constricting as he spoke tears welled in his eyes as he reached over and took Sherlock's hand which to his amazement Sherlock didn't pull back from. _

He had to stand outside the flat a moment to try and compose himself. Tears had streamed down his face the whole way home.

"Mary?" he called as he walked into the flat they shared after Sherlock had ordered him from Baker Street.

"I'm in here," she called going out to meet him stopping the moment she saw him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Everything," he got out, not even aware of how dramatic he sounded as at that moment all he knew was it was true.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about? What's happened?" she asked guiding him to a seat and sitting next to him.

"Sherlock, he's...he's..." he got out after a few false starts before Mary interrupted.

"Oh for God sake of course it is, it always is. What about him now?" she demanded.

"What do you mean by that?" John demanded his despair momentary displaced with anger at her words.

"It's always him, isn't it. It's always about him. What about me ? What about us John?" she hissed.

"It's not always about him but he is my best friend and in this case, yeah, yeah it is all about him, it has to be," he said quietly.

"Surprise, surprise. It's always him when you are not running round London after him or blogging about what you've done you're phoning or texting him to make sure he's okay or pining 'cos you're not out on some case with him," Mary said acidly.

"I can't do this anymore Mary I just, I can't," John said at last.

"Neither can I John. I will not play second best to Sherlock bloody Holmes," she snapped.

"It's not that Mary but you are right, this isn't working this can't work. You were right Mary I can't forgive what you did and the lies you told. I wanted to, I tried but I can't. I think it's time we stop pretending this is working because it's not," John said.

"Yeah I agree. Can I ask you just one thing?" Mary asked meeting his eye.

"Yeah."

"We both knew for a long time that this marriage wasn't working. I think we both knew it wasn't going to work after what I did but why now? We both seemed happy enough to just carry on until things eventually just stopped which we knew it would. So why now? What made you decide to end it now?" she asked.

John sighed and sat down next to her they were both aware this was the most they had spoke to each other in a long time.

"I need to be with Sherlock," he said quietly the fear and anguish bubbling up inside him again threatening to spill over.

"What is going on John?" she asked.

"He's sick Mary, really sick. He's..." he trailed off still not able to say it.

"He's what?" Mary asked.

"He's got lung cancer Mary," he said sounding totally defeated as the tears spilled over.

"Oh my God," Mary uttered.

"Yeah. So I, I need to be with him in this. I need to be there for him in whatever way he lets me. I'm sorry Mary but I don't have the strength to deal with this and carry on pretending that everything is okay between us when we know it's not," he said quietly.

"I understand and I, I am sorry John," she said quietly. They both knew it had only been a matter of time before this happened. In a lot of ways he was glad that it happened which was why she didn't fight him on it. Part of her was relieved one of them had said it, pretending had been harder, they had simply being delaying the inevitable.

"Me too," John said though neither of them really knew what it was he was sorry about, them or Sherlock.

"So what happens now?" Mary asked at last.

"I've got to go back to Baker Street," John said as he headed upstairs to pack.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**As always thank you so much for the reviews they mean so much to me, please keep them coming! I love to hear your thoughts and know you are reading this! I have to share with you all my Halloween costume, a female 11th Doctor I am slightly too excited about this. I plan to spend the whole night going, hello i'm the Doctor! How long before i'm kicked out the bar?**

**Disclaimer**

**As always I sadly own nothing apart from my very own fez, bow tie and braces!**

"You did what?" Sherlock demanded staring at John.

"You're a smart man Sherlock. Don't choose now of all times to act totally thick," John said quietly.

"You left Mary? Why?"

"Isn't that your job, to tell me why, so tell me," John answered.

"For God sake," Sherlock muttered going to slam the door but John stopped him and pushed into the flat with him.

"Nice try Sherlock," John said as he stood in the living room with him.

"Why did you leave her, I knew you were having problems but..." he trailed off not wanting to finish the sentence that he hadn't known just how bad the problems were. He always knew and if he didn't know he made it his job to know, if it was something that he deemed important. He knew John – he always knew what was going on with John. He knew more about him than he knew about anyone because with John for some reason, it mattered – he wanted to know. The fact he had missed something as significant as this concerned him, his mind, even now, especially now was meant to be his greatest asset.

"You need to rest," John stated not liking the wheezing sound that accompanied Sherlock's strained breathing.

"I was but answering the door to you and your domestic problems is getting in the way of that," he said dryly.

"I had to leave her Sherlock," John began he had meant what he said before, he really wasn't good at this sort of thing.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

He sighed trying to decide how to phrase his answer. "Because...because I can't continue being in a marriage that isn't working, not when...not when there are more important things to focus on than keeping up the pretence of a marriage that is making neither of us happy. We wanted it to work but we both know it's not," he finished.

"What are these more important things?" Sherlock asked mildly.

"Don't, don't do that," John said.

"Do what?"

"Act like you don't know when we both know what the more important things are," John said quietly.

"So you are telling me it is my fault you ended your marriage. I know I have been a source of shall we say, contempt between you and Mary but do not stand there and accuse me of being the cause for you to end your marriage," he said with such venom it near caused John to wince.

"That's not what i'm saying Sherlock," John protested.

"Then what is it you _are _saying then John?" Sherlock asked icily.

"I just I don't have the strength to be around Mary pretending our marriage is working when, when I could be here with you," John said at last going a little red.

"I agree your marriage with Mary was failing but as ever John there is one large error in your thinking. Not that there is any surprise there, there always is," he conceded.

"And what's that?" John asked his stomach dropping, did Sherlock know more about his prospects than he'd indicated earlier.

"I don't want or need you around so do both of us a favour and leave me alone. As I said before this, changes things so best this change starts now," Sherlock said curtly as he turned away from John.

"Stop it," John said taking a step closer to him.

"Leave me alone John. How many more times do I have to say it? I know you can be slow but surely even you must have understood by now I am better on my own," he said firmly.

"No, no you're not," John stated.

"Don't tell me what is or isn't better for me Doctor Watson. I am not one of your patients," he said sharply.

"No you're right your not, thank God but you are my friend. That means being there for you even when you don't want to admit that you need me. So save us a bit of time and just let me be there for you, were friends remember, even if you do make it hard to believe at times," John added as a weak tease at the end though due to the depth of the problem they faced it didn't quite carry.

"I know...thank you and I am sorry about your failed marriage," Sherlock said awkwardly the fight going out of him mainly because, though he would never admit it, John was right.

"Thank you, like I said we knew it wouldn't work but it does leave me with a bit of a problem," he admitted with a slight smile.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked.

"The small matter of where i'm going to live as I obviously can't stay where I am at the moment," he said.

"You are not staying here. I do not need nor want to be watched over."

"I wasn't asking to move back in here. I have grown slightly too accustomed to not finding body parts in my fridge. I was thinking about asking Mrs Hudson to let me have a look at the flat downstairs. She's said countless times she's had problems selling it so hopefully I'll get it for a good price," he said.

They stood in silence a while before Sherlock eventually spoke. "I won't hear of it John. How could you treat Mrs Hudson that way."

"What are you talking about?" John asked confusion evident in his voice.

"Taking advantage of your 'connection' for want of a better word for her to swindle her out of money for a flat she could get much more for. I must say John I expected better of you," he said.

"What? That isn't what I meant," John protested indignant at the implication.

"Also the smell of damp all over your clothes will be most unpleasant., intolerable for me to be around. No I think it would be the least insufferable option if you were to move back in here again, you know until you find somewhere else to live," Sherlock said.

"Right well, that's that then...guess i'd best get my stuff then," John said after a moment .

"I suppose so," Sherlock agreed sitting on the couch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**I am so sorry about the delay in update! Life has been hectic lately with college work and starting placement but I haven't forgotten about this story. The updates may be a little slow but please stay with me and as always please review they mean so much to me and give me the motivation to write.**

**Disclaimer**

**The fact that I am writing a disclaimer must make it clear I don't own Sherlock!**

"What do you mean no?" Greg demanded when Sherlock finally answered his phone. He refused to accept the text Sherlock had sent refusing the case. He knew Sherlock could be stubborn but he never turned down an interesting case and this case was of definite interest to him.

"I would have thought even you would have been able to understand the word – no it means a negative response, the negative response in this case being no I am not taking the case," Sherlock snapped.

"Stop being so bloody pedantic Sherlock. I know what no means. What I don't know is why you are refusing this case. I know you well enough to know this is usually the type of case you'd be biting my hand off for," Greg pointed out.

"Maybe i'm tired of doing your work for you, detective. That was a lot of 'no' and 'knows' in one sentence." Sherlock commented.

"Very funny Sherlock. You okay, you sound awful?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm fine."

"Then why wont you take the case, what's the problem?" he pressed.

Sherlock was quiet a moment as he contemplated what to say. He knew what he had to do but it didn't make it any easier, nothing about this was easy.

"I've said no," he began.

"Yeah I got that Sherlock-" he said before Sherlock cut him off.

"No, let me finish Greg and yes I do know your name I just enjoy how easy you are to annoy when I get it wrong. Anyway as I was saying, I said no and not just to this case but to all cases, for now at least," Sherlock said with a firmness and distance he didn't feel.

"Yeah very funny Sherlock," Greg said uncertainly The fact that Sherlock knew his name came as no real surprise to him.

"You have a very strange view on humour Greg," Sherlock commented.

"I don't understand. What's going on Sherlock?" he asked unease creeping in.

"There is a surprise you not understanding. I can't take any more cases for you at the moment. I'm not fine, i'm sick, and you know me so know how difficult that is for me to say so even you must understand that I am really sick, I've got cancer, lung cancer to be specific so i'm sure you will understand me taking somewhat of a back seat for the foreseeable future," he said quietly.

"Right, right oh course I...shit, sorry Sherlock...have they said...you know..." he stammered.

"If i'm going to survive or not?" Sherlock cut in.

"Sorry I didn't mean it like that, to be so blunt, I just..." he trailed off not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. He had been worried there was something wrong with Sherlock but never for a second did he think it would be anything like this.

"The answer is I don't know naturally they are doing everything they can I start chemotherapy later this week. I will most likely know more when they see how I respond to the treatment," he said.

"Right, right of course. Look if there is anything I can do to help just give me a ring alright," Greg said awkwardly. He wasn't good at saying things like this but he meant it, he wanted to help. He had known Sherlock when he was at his worst. He may be a nightmare to work with at times but he couldn't help but feel protective of him. The drugs he had been able to help this but this, in this he was helpless.

"Right," Sherlock said disconnecting the call both of them knowing he wouldn't phone him no matter how much he may need help.

"Jesus," Greg muttered massaging his temples as he attempted to take this in.

"Sir..." an officer began walking into the office carrying a report.

"Not now, not now," he said ushering the young officer out he couldn't face speaking to anyone just yet. He would be alright wouldn't he. He had to be, he was Sherlock Holmes but even he knew how empty his justifications were and just how brutal a beast cancer was.

00000

"I told him," Sherlock said tossing the phone onto the couch next to him.

"What did he say" John asked sitting across from him.

"Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not," he conceded after a moment.

"No point in wasting time," Sherlock said.

"Wasting time, for what?" John asked confused.

"For what you have been pestering me to do for the past three days, telling my parents and Mycroft. It's not like I will be able to hide it for much longer is it," he said.

"No, no it's not," John said quietly as he looked at Sherlock who was looked worryingly pale and thin.

"Right," he said picking up the phone and dialling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**I am so sorry for the delay in update! life has been hectic at the moment with college and placement. I promise i haven't and won't forget about this story even if updates are slightly less frequent than I would like. As always please review they mean so much to me!**

**Disclaimer**

**Sadly it's not mine!**

Sherlock had argued with him profusely but John was adamant. "Sherlock, the fight is pointless. why can't you for once in your life stop arguing and accept it. I am coming with you wither you like it or not" John said firmly.

Sherlock looked like he was about to argue but he regarded John a moment before finally nodding his agreement. He was tired of arguing, something he tried not to worry too much about. Though he found it hard to admit it would help to have him there, even if he couldn't quite say that to John but he had a feeling John knew that and that was why he insisted on coming regardless of his protests.

"So you going to tell me what time the appointment is at?" John asked with a slight smile to him as Sherlock had refused to tell him before.

"Nine O'clock," he said quietly his voice less calm than he would like it to be.

"Alright, we'll leave about eight then give us plenty of time to get there," John said decisively. he knew how hard this was for sherlock and hated how helpless he was to do anything about it. he knew how selfish he was being to be so upset about what was happening to Sherlock. of course being upset was natural and expected but to feel so consumed by how this was affecting him and how he couldn't stand to see Sherlock this ill and the fear of how much worse this could get for him was selfish as it took away from what he should be doing, making sure Sherlock was okay, or as okay as he could be.

He still couldn't quite believe this was happening but one look at Sherlock's gaunt pale form made it all too apparent that it really was happening. He couldn't imagine his life without Sherlock, those two years were awful enough he couldn't go through that again, he needed him, perhaps more than he knew. He suddenly mentally shook himself as the meaning behind his thoughts became clear to him. Part of him had already given up on Sherlock's chances he couldn't do that…he had to help Sherlock beat this or…no, he couldn't think like that.

"Fine," Sherlock said leaving the room leaving John alone with his thoughts.

SHSHSHSH

"You know I don't need you to…" Sherlock began before they were due to leave for the hospital.

"Don't, just don't!" John cut in before he could say anything else.

Sherlock regarded John and nodded slight he was more grateful for this than John could ever know. He needed John with him in this. He was glad he was back living with him. Things felt right that way. he tried telling himself it was because them living together again remind him of the time before all this started but he knew that wasn't true, he knew all too well it was more than that he just didn't know in what way. Even if he did he would allow himself to admit it, especially not now what was the point even if this was what brought John back to him He wasn't sure how it was he was thinking about John and right now he didn't have the energy to think about it. He just knew he was glad he was here, after all hadn't he said he would be lost without his blogger.

"Sherlock Holmes?" a nurse called not long after they had arrived. Though he would never mention he felt sherlock's frame tense slightly.

"Ready?" John asked standing with him.

"You can wait here," Sherlock said.

"Don't be stupid. i didn't come all this way to sit in a waiting room. Now come on lets go," John said walking with him into the treatment room.

John sat with Sherlock as the doctor set up the line to pump the drugs into his system. The doctor tried talking to him but Sherlock merely rolled his eyes before closing them blocking him out. One look at sherlock told him he was retreating into his mind palace. John glanced at the doctor shaking his head indicating for him to leave them alone.

When the doctor left the room John began talking to Sherlock about anything and everything. He didn't know if anything he was saying penetrated through his mind palace but he continued talking regardless wanting Sherlock to know he wasn't alone if there was any chance that he could hear.

SHSHSHSH

John was relieved when sherlock eventually relented and let him into the bathroom to help him. The vomiting had started several hours earlier proving Sherlock with little to no respite between bouts. Sherlock had been adamant that John leave him alone. He had pushed John from the bathroom with as much strength as he could muster uttering for him to leave him alone when he heard him hovering outside.

He wordlessly knelt on the floor next to Sherlock rubbing his back. He didn't bother with empty platitudes.

"Try and drink this," John said quietly. He had finally been able to move Sherlock to the couch when the vomiting finally stopped, though he placed a basin by the couch just incase.

Sherlock reached out with a shaky hand and took small sips from the glass before thrusting it back to John and slumping back on the couch.

"John?" Sherlock asked croaky as he opened his eyes slightly.

"Hey, you okay?" John asked

"I'm okay," he uttered.

"You up to something to eat?" John asked.

"No."

"Didn't think so, try and drink this," he said emerging from the kitchen after a moment carrying a glass.

"What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's a drink that will help replace some of the nutrients you've lost. it wont taste the best but you still need to drink it.

"John?" Sherlock said quietly after drinking slowly from the glass wincing slightly at the taste.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Nothing to thank me for, this is where I want to be," he said reaching out to take the glass from him but Sherlock had already placed it back on the table. He found himself holding Sherlock's hand and not wanting to let go and amazingly Sherlock was holding back just as firmly.


End file.
